Military Rule
The Supreme Betrayal
Nigerians do not seem to have a full grasp of the fundamentals of military dictatorships
and there are a number of possible reasons for this apathy. Perhaps we have suppressed
admiration for the rogues that ran the system and therefore have a hidden desire to
one day be like them. Or is it that we are more preoccupied with overblown and
sometimes imaginary enemies like our ethnic neighbors, practitioners of unfamiliar
religions or the biggest of them all—colonialism. Then again, maybe it is because we
are hoodwinked into concentrating all our rage on invisible threats that many of us have
never and may never make contact with in our lifetime, like homosexuals.
Military dictators seize managerial, political and economic power by force of arms. The
consequence, holding millions of people to ransom and imposing their will on them.
Don’t fool yourself; if anyone abuses power by taking it forcefully, they will abuse
everything else, including public funds and resources. This recurring trend in many
African countries is one of the worst (if not the worst) forms of ruthless betrayal that
could be meted out to citizens of any nation. It is not just that the military is sworn to
protect the people; the people also provide the tax money to train and equip the
military. Essentially, coupists turn on the people that eagerly look up to them for
protection. Worse still, the guns they use for their treachery are the same guns provided
by the people. Once subdued, the people are then mugged and burglarized in the most
heinous fashion.
Even if your boss were adjudged to be sinfully incompetent and detrimental to
professional progress, what are the chances that you would consider overthrowing him
as a viable option? If you did, you would be diagnosed as mentally deficient and liable
to some form of institutionalized punishment, even if just time spent in a psychiatric
facility. But, except in rare situations, our military brigands are accorded utmost
reverence as long as their ascendancy is prompted by a successful coup. Even after they
step down, they remain superstars.
One aspect of military rule that we rarely talk about is the sense of entitlement
assumed by every military personnel on account of their superiors being the bearers of
absolute power and wealth. Granted, low-ranking men and women amount to little or
nothing in their barracks where they hardly attain a position higher than scum or,
perhaps, farm animals. They are nameless, faceless and subject to round-the-clock
orders. But their irrelevance in the barracks is more than made up for when they parade
the streets and harass civilians for no apparent reason. For people who are utter
nonentities within the chain of command, it is always psychologically refreshing to beat
the crap out of civilians just for the fun of it. How many times have people been abused,
yelled at, slapped, punched, kicked or flogged with koboko because some corporal felt
like it? Maybe the soldier didn’t like the way you looked at him. Maybe the navy man
didn’t like the way you walked past the gate leading into his master’s house. Or could
it be that you dared to answer the military policeman when he abused your mother? I
remember when my brother, a friend and I were hurled out of the radio station in
Calabar because the guard soldiers didn’t like the way we walked into the facility. Then
there was the day when the occupants of an entire street in Calabar were pummeled
by navy men because one of their colleagues had apparently been in a fight with
someone on that street (someone who, however, may not have lived on the street).
There was also that fateful day when about a hundred of us we were forced out of the
United Bank of Africa (UBA) building by a band of soldiers as we waited for the bank to
pay our delayed salaries. It is no surprise, therefore, that the opportunity for soldiers
to quell demonstrations with teargas, guns and any other instrument of violence has
always been a prized assignment executed as if in some frenzied state of dementia. It
is also why they were thrilled to be sent to secondary schools in the 1970s where they
habitually thrashed and harassed students in what became something of a random,
sadistic pastime. Remember, these soldiers had no academic counselling or
administrative skills, little or no education and no real understanding of the concept of
discipline beyond being barked at into submission. But because their superior officers
were invincible and immeasurably powerful, these dregs of the barracks also arrogated
such superiority to themselves, even if in limited circumstances.
There is this erroneous assumption that fraudulence ends and democracy is restored
after the military relinquishes power. But power is never relinquished by the military.
One of Nigeria’s former military dictators, Olusegun Obasanjo, has gone on to serve two
terms as civilian president. Though unsuccessful in three attempts, Muhammadu Buhari
finally clinched the presidency in 2015 after contesting the position for an
unprecedented fourth time. It would seem that he was supremely confident about
wearing the title of commander-in-chief a second time; it was a matter of time. Beyond
confidence, it is even plausible that he had come to perceive the office as his birthright.
Senate President David Mark was a staunch participant and barefaced beneficiary of
military rule from the 1980s to the early 90s. When our ex-military dictators are not
contesting to be senator or president with money they stole, they are sponsoring other
contestants from whom they will be rewarded lavishly. It is an absolute win-win
situation for them. Are we not aware that our Council of State is significantly populated
by former military dictators? Interestingly, within this group are retired officers working
alongside the colleagues that deposed them. (With obvious animosity between them, is
it humanly possible that they can work together efficiently?) But they continue to
occupy this influential position and continue to be rewarded handsomely for the
redundant work they do as members of this body. Have we not bestowed all of them
with national awards? Numerous streets and institutions bear their names and our best
known international airport, Murtala Muhammed is named after one of them, the same
one who has his photo displayed on one of our currency notes, albeit a currency that
has long depreciated in value. His martyr status derives from his being slaughtered in
the same manner that he had participated in slaughtering innocent people during the
July 1966 coup.
It is a win-win situation, therefore, not because military men have mastered the art of
plundering the country, but because we tolerate, venerate, vindicate and encourage
them. None of them should serve in any capacity that affords them the opportunity to
influence national policies. None of them should be brazen enough to parade
themselves in public, let alone contest for any political office, high or low. At best,
they should be arraigned and forced to answer for their crimes. In many countries, that
would be the case, but not in African countries. After all, many of the people in current
positions of power are their payees and acolytes. This therefore is the problem—not
that military men once enforced autocratic rule, but that these criminals are still held
in high esteem, have never been held responsible for their atrocities and continue to
wield remarkable political and economic influence. Shame on us!
Copyright © 2014 Philip Effiong